Pradesh Week August 5-11
by Illustre
Summary: Prompts in first chapter. Rated M cause I'm sweary and there'll probably be gore. And Cobra.
1. Prompts

Woohoo! An entire week of prompts dedicated to the Pradesh family, who are the creations of the incredibly talented Desna!

My OC, Amalie, will also be included as I want to try and develop characters a little bit more (thanks to writer's block on my other fics)!

This will be the first ever prompt week I've participated in, so please be kind :) Story will be ongoing chapters, not one shots.

Day 1: Shatter

Day 2: Lick

Day 3: Summit

Day 4: Concede

Day 5: Particular

Day 6: Huge

Day 7: Doxy

BONUS: Brimstone


	2. Prologue

Okay, so I got excited and wrote this as an intro to Pradesh Week...

As always, here's the disclaimer: All I own is my OC... The Pradesh characters belong to the talented Desna, and Faily Tail is all Hiro Mashima's creation.

 **Prologue**

She growled and threw the damned vase stuffed with its fucking yellow roses at the hallway mirror. The blonde didn't even flinch as the glass shattered her furious reflection and fell to the floor, its shards mingling with the broken porcelain. To hell with seven years bad luck, her whole life had been a cluster fuck of shit fortune up until this point anyway. She looked around for more things to break, more things that reminded her of him and the way he'd destroyed her heart.

A sleeve hanging out of the bottom of the chest of drawers in her bedroom caught her eye. His clothes. That drawer was full of them. Lucy stomped over, her whole being filled with hate and a will to inflict even a fraction of the pain on him that he'd caused her.

"Mavis. What did he do this time?" a familiar female voice called from the open front door.

The blonde turned to see Amalie stepping delicately over the mess she'd made in the hallway and glared at her friend. "What do you want, Am?"

"Permission to blow his house up?" she asked innocently, her vivid green eyes sparkling with mischief. The Celestial mage growled in response and went back to pulling the asshole's clothes from their previous home in her bedroom. Lucy knew she wasn't joking, knew that she was more than capable of it thanks to her Change magic, but taking her up on the offer was overstepping the line from destroying his shit in a fit of petty rage to participating in a criminal act.

At least when Team Natsu did it to random villages, it was an accident. She cringed at the thought of facing her team, but knew it would happen sooner or later. Preferably later. Much, much later.

"I still have diplomatic immunity, you know," the other woman wheedled good naturedly as she leaned against the door frame and watched the Celestial mage's furious movements. "You could claim complete ignorance."

The blonde didn't trust herself to reply - it really was a very tempting offer - as she stood up to open her closet. She grabbed the dress that she'd worn on their first date and added it to the pile of crap to burn before reaching for the couples costume they'd worn only weeks ago for Halloween.

Scarred hands grabbed hers before she could pull the slinky backless black dress she'd worn for their one year anniversary of its hanger. Lucy growled and looked up at Amalie for the first time since she'd arrived as she snapped, "What?"

"I like that dress," the pale pinkette explained with a shrug, not letting go of her friends hands even as she struggled to get free. Lucy hated her in that moment; hated her for being calm and rational and slightly taller. And stronger. "If you're going to throw it out, I'll take it. Now, hurry up with your tantrum and pack your shit up. We're going to Bosco tomorrow."

"I don't want to go to Bosco," the blonde snarled, but her anger was deflating the longer Amalie prevented her from ripping her wardrobe apart. She glared at her friend, pissed off that she was no longer furious. She wanted to be mad, dammit, and she wanted to throw things and scream. She wanted to be the opposite of the normally forgiving person who always seemed to get walked all over. "Let me go."

Amalie smirked at her, and in that moment Lucy knew the pinkette had something that the Celestial mage most definitely wanted before the words were even spoken.

"Not even for a million jewel and the possibility of a silver key?"


	3. Shatter

Special thanks to everyone following and those who have left reviews - I am truly humbled! I'm going to be a little late with my updates (I'm overseas and started writing this instead of packing my suitcase, and now the flights been delayed by a whole day so I'm finishing it)...

.:*Insert usual disclaimer here*:.

 **Chapter One. Shatter.**

It wasn't a particularly long trip to Bosco - only a couple of days by airship from Hargeon to Palerno - but Fairy Tail's Celestial mage fully intended to take advantage of the open bar. And the peace and quiet. She rarely got a chance to enjoy such indulgences.

She glanced over to where her companion lay, a vibrant blue bikini covering her battle honed and scarred body, on the sun lounge beside her and smiled. Lucy had recognised her the second she'd stepped through the doors at the guild thanks to her upbringing in high society. Her father had made sure she was obnoxiously up to date with the who's who of Earthland royalty should one of them ever attend a function she was at. Amalie had been second in line to the throne of the Kingdom that skirted the opposite side of Pergrande, before she'd abdicated with her mother's blessing. She'd told the blonde she hated the protocol and expectations, and would have made a shit queen. She still took jobs for her mother, though, and could be gone for weeks at a time, usually with the Raijinshuu in tow.

"Why aren't you doing this job with Laxus?" Lucy wondered out loud.

Amalie lifted her sunglasses up and regarded the blonde for a long moment before replying, "Because he's like a bull in a china shop. And he pissed me off."

Lucy laughed at that. The big blonde slayer and the pinkette argued nearly as much as Natsu and Gray, although not as violently... Most of the time. She was almost certain they'd slept together but didn't want to pry.

"And since you murdered those helpless flowers and the dress I liked, I figured you could use a break," the pinkette added with a sly grin.

The blonde glared at her, almost feeling guilty that she'd burned the dress Amalie had tried to save - along with the rest of _his_ clothes. Really, she should have known what was about to happen after those roses arrived - they were the colour of friendship, after all - and for failing to realise that, Lucy was more furious with herself than anyone else. At the time, she'd thought they'd been a sweet gesture to illustrate his affection for her. Fortunately, Virgo had opened her own gate to clean up the evidence of the flower murder and replace the mirror while Lucy was busy 'packing her shit' (as Amalie had so charmingly put it) and, after she'd finished, the blonde had had a good cry and resolved to move forward.

"So what is this job, exactly?" the Celestial mage demanded. She'd been told nothing - the two women had sat in coffee deprived silence during the early morning train ride to Hargeon, and it was only once they'd boarded the airship and laid out like lizards soaking up the sun that any words had been spoken. In truth, Lucy had only been on a handful of jobs with the Change mage since she'd joined the guild 6 months prior, but had learned a lot. The pinkette generally left her to her own devices, only intervening if the situation had the potential to get lethal. "Where are we staying? How long are we going to be gone?"

"You've been requested to do some work for the Boscan ambassador, and I'm doing... Other things," Amalie replied in a bored tone, rolling over onto her stomach and reaching for one of the fresh cocktails that had appeared, unbidden, on the table between them. She saw the look of horror cross over Lucy's face and rolled her eyes. The former princess may have spent her whole life training to be an assassin, but she only took jobs that her mother assigned or where she was able to research the hell out of someone first to warrant the action. She had a particular distaste for rapist and slavers, and she certainly wasn't nasty enough to take the sensitive blonde on a job where she'd have to bear witness to a hit. "Not that sort of thing. At least, I don't think so. Mother kept it cryptic."

"Fair enough," Lucy replied. She hadn't particularly wanted to know the details, and an indirect no from the pinkette was better than a definite yes. She took a long sip of her drink and lay back on her lounge, watching the clouds move above them. "You didn't answer my other questions..."

"You worry too much, Star!" Amalie groaned, and her nose twitched as she picked up a familiar scent. While her senses weren't as good as the Slayers, they were sharper than a normal persons thanks to the Hunter magic that ran in her family's bloodline. "Bickslow talked his dad into letting us stay at his place and it should only be for a couple of weeks. Did you know our little Seith mage has super hot brothers?"

"I ain't little, princess!" the aforementioned man complained, the close proximity of his voice making the blonde start as his shadow loomed over the women.

"Bickslow?" Lucy exclaimed in confusion, glancing between the Seith and the princess as the tall man moved her legs over she he could sit on the lounge by the blonde's knees. He was helmet-less, something that Lucy had only ever seen on a few occassions, and wore an unbuttoned white shirt over a pair of board shorts. She couldn't help but notice that the man was definitely fit underneath all the usual garb that he wore. "What are you doing here?"

"He wanted to come with us," the pinkette told her with a shrug. She eyed the blonde as she continued to stare at Bickslow and smirked. "Lu, you've got a little drool there..."

Her gibe had the desired effect as the blonde turned a brilliant shade of red and squawked, "I do not!"

Amalie burst out laughing, nearly rolling off her lounge as she attempted to keep her drink from spilling.

"Aw, cosplayer, don't be shy," the Seith mage crooned, pulling his shirt off completely and tossing it at blonde. He'd peeked at both of the womens' souls before joining them; the pinkette's was more of a brighter green when she was around the blonde, the usual grey and black that intertwined it duller than usual. Lucy's soul, however, was more muted than the last time he'd seen it several months ago, the edges of it dulled and splintered like it had been shattered. He had an idea of what had happened, of why the Change mage had stormed into his house the previous night demanded she be included on the trip, but he hadn't realised how badly it had impacted on her usually blinding soul. Determined to help her, and tease her as much as possible without hurting the poor girl more, Bickslow caught her much smaller hand in his and pressed it to his chest. "You can look, and touch, all you want..."

Lucy just gaped at him as he met her wide eyed gaze, unable to form words. She'd had a crush on Bickslow ever since she'd first seen him without his helmet. His wild hair and devil-may-care attitude just dragged her in, and now she was touching him. Mavis, she could die a happy woman now she'd felt his skin under her fingertips.

"I think you broke her," the pinkette giggled, offering the Seith the slice of pineapple that had been decorating her glass.

Bickslow looked away from Lucy and the spell was broken. He still held her hand pressed against him, over his heart, and she felt herself turn even more red but couldn't find it in herself to pull away.

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The remainder of the trip was relatively uneventful. When the sun finally set that first night, the trio made their way back below deck to the cabins to freshen up for dinner. Bickslow had spent the whole afternoon with the two women, and the trio had all turned down multiple offers of pleasure. Lucy, however, seemed to garner the most attention with her golden hair. The first time it had happened, the blonde had still been within the Seith mage's grasp and had turned an impressive shade of red, while both her guild mates had audibly growled at the perpetrator.

The poor blonde was caught even more offside when it was revealed Bickslow would be sharing their room on the airship. She waited until he had been in the shower for a while to ask Amalie about getting another bed for the room.

"Chill. We'll share my bed," the Change mage soothed. Sharing a bed with him wasn't an issue - they'd done it on plenty of occasions when accommodation was tight. Laxus liked to pick up women so usually got his own room, or shared with Freed, and Evergreen was adamant about having her own space. The Fairy mage also snored like a freight train, and had a nasty habit of smacking her team with her damned fan whenever they teased her about it. A smile curved the pinkette's lips when she heard the shower shut off and she winked at the blonde. "Although, you're totally missing out - Bix is a complete snugglebug."

"I am not!" he protested, slamming the bathroom open and exiting with just a towel slung around his slender hips. "Mavis, Am, way to emasculate a dude."

The blonde had just stared at the Seith mage as rivulets of water ran down his mostly bare body, and her face had stayed an almost permanent shade of red thanks to Bicklsow's continued lack of modesty, that she suspected was deliberately exacerbated by his and Amalie's entertainment over her extreme embarrassment. Sure, she had a nudist on her team in the form of Gray, and she was familiar with the male anatomy thanks to him and the few men she'd been with, but Bickslow was different. There had also been multiple men, and the occasional woman, that had propositioned her throughout the journey. She was almost glad when they finally reached the Palerno sky port.

A handsome older man with dark hair and pale jade eyes, that Lucy immediately recognised as the Arman Pradesh, was waiting for them. Beside him stood a tall blonde with baby blue eyes who was also dressed in embassy robes.

Amalie practically leapt from the ship as soon as they got close to the port and threw herself into the elder Pradesh's arms. Her own father had died when she was ten, and she'd spent a lot of time in Bosco on political envoys with her mother. Arman had always acknowledged her, and made time to teach her tricks to reign in and control her magic. It was how she'd met Bickslow in the first place, which had then influenced her decision to join Fairy Tail.

Arman chuckled as he wrapped his arms around the young woman. "It's good to see you too, little Firebird."

"What happened to the red hair, princess?" Farron asked, pulling on her pale pink braid. She released his father and wrapped her arms around the younger ambassador's waist.

"Don't you like it?" Amalie asked, pulling back from his hug and looking up at him with a pout. She'd always liked the eldest Pradesh sibling; he was a keen swordsman and an intelligent fighter, so sparing with him was always interesting. His opinion on the hair colour she'd adopted after she'd abdicated almost mattered. "I think it suits me."

"Because you want to be cotton candy when you grow up?" Farron teased.

Bicklsow and Lucy joined them before Amalie could come up with a retort, with the Seith mage introducing the blonde first to his father and then his older brother. Predictably, the Celestial mage had been in awe of Arman. She'd read all about the peace work he'd initiated and knew he was multilingual as well as a talented mage.

The blonde had turned an impressive shade of red when Farron grasped her hand and kissed the corner of her mouth. He was even more handsome close up.

"Lovely to meet you, Lucy," he greeted her, still leaning close enough to her that his lips brushed her skin as her spoke. The Celestial mage gulped, trying to form words to reply.

"Nah, uh. Hands off, Farron," Bickslow interrupted, snatching Lucy's hand from his older brother. He'd enjoyed the small blonde's company during the trip and wasn't about to lose her to his older brothers charms. He didn't miss the Ambassador's knowing look, or his father's scarily Mira-like expression, but they were both problems to be addressed later. "Let's get going already! I can smell Mr Elan's lemon cookies from here."


	4. Lick

Ooops... This is later than I wanted it to be... I blame an international flight and losing a day because of it :) The third chapter is almost written, though!

This chapter has triggers (rape, gore, killing, lemon-ish stuff etc). M for a reason. You've been warned...

Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima is the genius behind Fairy Tail, and the Pradesh family is Desna's creation (and I hope I'm doing them justice!). I can only take credit for my OC, Amalie.

 **Chapter Two. Lick.**

A short car ride later, Arman was showing the two young women to the room they were sharing and instructed them to go to the kitchen as soon as they were settled for some afternoon tea. They'd found Mr Elan mixing some batter for a cake, and he'd wordlessly passed them the bowls after he'd poured the batter and placed the pans into the oven. Lucy hummed happily as she scraped the bowl, fighting Amalie's own spoon for it as they giggled. The Pradesh house truly felt like a home, and it was something she sorely missed. It sometimes got lonely living by herself, and she'd never had siblings or rally anyone around her own age growing up at the Heartfilia konzern.

"Cosplayer, this is Vander," Bickslow told her as he entered the kitchen, a man with shoulder length black hair and dark red eyes, with leather pants that were practically painted on, following him. "Oh man! I thought I was your favourite, Mr Elan!"

The blonde's eyes widened as she paused mid-lick of a wooden spoon covered in chocolate cake batter. Mavis, of all the times he could have walked in with yet another drop dead gorgeous sibling, and she was shovelling food into her face. She watched, mesmerised, as the red eyed man sauntered over to her.

"Don't mind me, gorgeous," Vander told her with a wink, reaching over and swiping some of the batter from her spoon with his finger. The blonde followed the digit as he slid it into his mouth and sucked it clean, blushing when he gave her a flirtatious smirk. If all the brothers were like this, Lucy was concerned her face would be a permanent shade of red by the end of the trip, and that she'd have no clean and dry panties left by the end of the day.

"You're still an outrageous flirt," Amalie laughed, sliding off the stool she was perched on. She was desperate for a swim in the Grass Sea, and her blonde companion seemed too distracted eye fucking the youngest Pradesh brother to go with her. She turned her attentions over to the older Pradesh brother, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "You coming, Bicks?"

"Just a second," Bickslow mumbled as he drew on his magic, watching as Vander's soul reached out to Lucy, and he realised that he'd never stood a chance with her. They'd had a flirtation and he definitely enjoyed her company, but they'd never gone any further than teasing over all the years they'd known one another. His younger brother, however, clearly _needed_ her more than he was probably even aware of. When they were younger, Van's soul had been blindingly bright but his soul had been darkening over the years, probably due to the work he was doing for the Steel Council. It was already starting to look brighter, the same as Amalie's always did, with just with a tiny bit of exposure to the blonde. He let Amalie tow him out of the kitchen, making a mental note to keep an eye on it while they were here.

"So, Vander, was it?" Lucy asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Where do you fit in here?"

"I'm the badass of this family," he told her with a conspiratorial wink. "If you want to have fun, I'm your guy."

The blonde giggled. "Oh, really? Well, I am in a guild with Bicks so I have pretty high expectation of fun!"

 _You need to go. Now!_ His older brother, Kaleb's, voice in Vander's mind was urgent and more frantic than the Shadowquip mage could ever remember hearing him. _Take Amalie. She knows what's going on._

"Sorry, beautiful, but I have to go," Vander told Lucy, giving her a forlorn look and pulling her close so he could press a lingering kiss to her sweet full lips. Her eyes widen delightfully in surprise, stunned by his actions.

"I'll see you later," he promised with a smirk before he released her and leapt into action.

Amalie barely had time to register what was going on before Vander materialised and pulled her with him into the voids.

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Amalie doubled over, bracing herself against her knees as she gagged in what appeared to be a filthy back alley, exactly where she didn't know. Sure, she'd travelled with Vander through the voids before on jobs, but only for brief periods and she'd always had a chance to prepare herself for the smothering cold and the voices beforehand. Gods, the voices were the worst - they begged her to open her eyes, to save them, and they sounded so similar to her loved ones. She'd just barely managed to cling to the Shadowquip mage as it felt like their icy fingers were tearing at her skin for what seemed like hours.

"Fuck you, Van," she finally managed to gasp. She silently thanked the gods that she'd actually had a mind to put clothes into her Requip storage since she was still in the damp bikini she'd been wearing when he'd taken her. She had no weapons, though, because her Requip skills weren't strong enough for carry them for a long period of time. "What's up with the snatch and go?"

"Kaleb thinks he's found Zen," Vander told her grimly. It had been sheer luck on the Mindbender's part; he'd been visiting a guild in Bellum and caught the magical signature during training one morning. He'd monitored it ever since and when it had flickered, he'd panicked, not willing to lose it again. "At a gladiator stadium in Pergrande."

There had been a plan to investigate it before acting - it was the whole reason the Change mage had been engaged by Arman. The two assassins were supposed to go and do recon work first, and plan everything out beforehand, but it looked like they were going in blind.

"As in the Zen that everyone thinks is dead Zen?" the pinkette asked, eyes widening slightly when the dark haired mage nodded. She opened her magical storage and pulling out a pair of black leggings, black long sleeved shirt and a pair of soft knee high leather boots. She quickly got dressed and pulled her pink hair up into a high bun. "You'll need to make me some weapons. I have nothing."

Vander had intimate knowledge of all the weapons she liked; this wasn't their first rodeo, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He set to work creating a black bow and half a dozen variously sized daggers out of his shadows that were identical in size and weight to what she usually used, before also handing her a quiver full of sleek black arrows. As an afterthought, he also created a hooded cape. Pergrande was a disgustingly patriarchal kingdom, and women didn't have any rights so it wouldn't do if she was noticed or recognised. "Dad said you know the layout of this shit hole. We're a couple blocks away."

"I know of it. Fucking Karadin made us watch a few of those shit shows when I was younger," Amalie clarified with a roll of her eyes before pulling the hood over her face. She remembered those matches well, for all the worst reasons. Her own kingdom had similar stadiums, but the men and women there had trained their whole lives for it and were voluntary competitors. They made money, rarely died, and also fought in the Queen's army.

Those who had fought in Pergrande stadiums, especially at Skys Reach, were nothing more than underfed slaves being raped and slaughtered by half crazed bigger slaves, and the occasional monster, for entertainment.

Vander led the way as they kept to the shadows and rooftops, shifting them both into his shadows to get inside the stadium before pausing to let the Change mage take the lead. He watched as she sank to a knee and pressed he hand to the stone floor. He wasn't a hundred percent sure exactly how her magic worked to track things, but knew enough that she could trace objects that were touching. There was a surge of magic and he had to hurry to catch her as she raced forward. They navigated the hallways, only pausing when they heard shouting ahead.

The pinkette slunk back, wordlessly letting the Shadowquip take the lead again. He slunk off into his shadows, reappearing seconds later holding 4 fingers up and indicating the hallway straight ahead before holding up two fingers and indicating left. Amalie nodded, unsheathing the daggers on her forearms.

They moved forward as one, silently slitting the throats of the four guards in the hallway before they even knew the assassins were there. The Shadowquip mage disposed of the bodies into the Voids and nodded at Amalie.

She slunk into the room to the left, apparently an observation room, and was confronted by the back of the very naked king, who was too busy watching whatever spectacle was going on through the window and stroking his dick to notice Vander grabbing the guard that stood right beside him and disappearing.

The blade of her dagger pressing into his throat hard enough to drag blood finally got his attention but didn't stop him from playing with himself.

"My mother sends her love," Amalie crooned into his ear, feeling Karadin's whole body stiffen when he recognised her voice and his precarious situation, as the other knife slid like butter through his back, between the vertebrae, and severed his spinal cord. Arman had been very specific in his orders not to kill the King, but he'd said nothing about paralysing the sick fucker. She released him and he dropped to the ground, finally releasing the hold he had on his cock, and she turned her attention to the room beyond the window as she wiped the king's blood off on her leggings.

A tall golden skinned man stood in the centre of the room next to a marble slab, magic draining manacles adorning his throat, wrists and ankles. The most striking thing about him was the pair of large black wings that sprouted from his back.

"I think maybe it's best you go in there," Van suggested, reappearing at her side and ignoring the man swearing at their feet as he tried to drag himself away. He wasn't happy about having to make the pinkette deal with it, but from what he could see through the blood splattered window his older brother was drugged to the eyeballs and had probably just been raped by the King of Pergrande. It wouldn't be wise for a strange male to enter the room, lest he be dispatched like the others. "I can't take him through the Voids in magic cancelling cuffs. It'll fuck with my magic. I'll take the pervert back to Bosco and meet you at the sky port in Sin."

"Gee, thanks," Amalie snarled at him. Sin was going to be at least 2 days walk unless she could acquire a few horses. She accepted his authority, though. This was a job ordered by his father, so he got to take the lead on it. "Leave me with the crazy one."

"Maybe lose the weapons..." was Vander's final suggestion as he grabbed Karadin by one of his now useless feet, and they both disappeared into the Voids.


	5. Summit

Thank you so much to everyone who has left reviews :) I've been trying to reply to them, and I'm sorry if I missed any!

I had way too much fun with this chapter - hope you all like it!

 **Chapter 3. Summit.**

Amalie stared at the door apprehensively. Fucking Vander and his disappearing tricks, leaving her to deal with his brother. She was terrible in these situations, and would honestly have preferred taking on the entire Pergrandian Army instead. At least then she'd have weapons.

With a sigh, she pushed the door open. The missing Pradesh stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving and eyes wild as he locked them onto the Change mage. He was completely naked, covered in the blood and gore of what she counted to be at least 8 guards. They were in pieces, ripped apart by what she could only assume were his black wings, which curled around his shoulders protectively as he stared at her. Despite it all, the resemblance to Arman was unmistakable.

"Zen?" she asked, holding her hands up to show she held no weapons as she stepped into the room. He growled, glaring at her before lunging. Amalie fought her own instincts to remain impassive and still in the face of a potential bodily threat. He stopped just inches away and she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact. He was close enough she could feel the heat emanating from his body, could see the gold flecks in his purple eyes. His drug induced hard on brushed against her hip. She felt an overwhelming urge to touch him take over and reached out in a daze, gasping as a jolt of unfamiliar magic ran through her fingers when they barely brushed his stubbled cheek before she caught herself and pulled back. "Sorry."

"Who are you? I've seen you before, watching us," he demanded, his expression unchanged despite the effect touching him had had on the pinkette. He glared down at her. "Is he watching behind that window?"

"Believe me, watching perverted Pergrandian bloodsport wasn't by choice," she snapped back, annoyance at his accusation momentarily taking over before she calmed it back down. Getting snarky wouldn't help their situation. She needed to get them both out of the stadium before the rapist's sympathisers appeared looking for him. "I'm Amalie. Karadin is a non-issue now."

"How?" Zen growled, his face moving close to hers as he continued to glare.

Amalie shrugged. "He's crippled beyond repair and on his way back to Bosco for his reaping."

That seemed to satisfy the big man as he nodded, apparently believing that she was being honest, and took a step back out of the former princess' personal space bubble.

"We need to leave now, though," the pinkette told him. "There are ancient catacombs under the city. We can use them to get as far away from here as we can before we have to surface."

The dark haired Boscan nodded once and gestured towards the door, swaying slightly. Amalie swore. They would need to move fast and he was still fighting whatever the hell it was they'd given him in an effort to make him compliant for the King.

"Can I touch you?" she asked. His lips thinned, but he again nodded his assent. The pinkette carefully grabbed his right hand from where it hung at his side, forcing herself to ignore another jolt of unfamiliar magic as she pulled his arm towards her. Her other hand closed around the magic draining manacle on his wrist and she closed her eyes in concentration. Changing regular materials was easy, but magical items required precision, especially when it was magic that she didn't want to absorb. The cuff had layers of magic within the steel and it took her a few minutes to work around its composition before Changing the cuff itself into sand.

Zen watched the young woman as she worked, feeling small waves of magic wash over him, diluted but tangible, with each layer of magic that she neutralized. The last time he'd felt that much accessible power was when a cuff had been damaged during a battle with a wyvern. He swayed slightly as the magic washed over him, trying to fight whatever the hell it was in his system, and she was quick to grab him around his waist. Not that she'd really be able to support him if he went down given their size difference.

"I'll Change the other ones, but we need to get out of here first," she told him, manoeuvring herself under one of his arms and leading him out of the room.

He tried to not lean on her too heavily, or outwardly cringe when she released him briefly to scoop up a small cache of black weapons. He wanted to trust that this wasn't just another ploy by the King to try and break him, that she was actually there to liberate him after his life in captivity. She moved back beside him, her warm arm wrapping around his waist, and he let her guide him down the hall.

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Vander had rather enjoyed the trip through the Voids with the King. Usually he was extremely careful when he took people with him, the Void demons were attracted to anything new or light, and he relished in the terrified screams of the crippled King in the hours that it took him to return to Palerno.

He materialised in the middle of his father's study, which was occupied by most of his family - Farron had been called away to the Embassy and Kaleb obviously hadn't been able to escape the duties at White Sea - and Lucy. He almost doubled over laughing when those that hadn't been privy to his imminent arrival visibly jumped, the blonde even giving a delightful startled yelp at his sudden appearance.

"Merry Christmas," the Shadowquip greeted them all, dropping Karadin to the carpet and bowing with a dramatic flourish. His father could be furious about the blood and mess later. "Milly hopes you like our present. Sorry we didn't have time to wrap it properly."

There was a moment of stunned silence, broken only when his slightly older blonde sister, Emzadi, asked, "What the actual fuck, Van?"

The Solar Dragon Slayer stared at the ruler of Pergrande, orange eyes disbelieving.

"You know you're ruining the carpet, right?" his older brother, Cristoff, pointed out. From the nonplussed look on his face, though, the big Lunar Slayer gave zero fucks about it and made no move to heal the tormentor of their family.

Vander shrugged, moving to lounge on the couch beside the blonde Fairy. To her credit, she didn't flinch away from him, and just continued staring at him with wide chocolate coloured eyes, her hands clutched together in her lap. He looked over at her, eyes drifting down to her plump lips. He'd only gotten a brief taste before of her cherry flavoured lips, but definitely wanted to revisit that and see what the rest of her tasted like. He smirked at her and winked, watching as she blushed slightly and looked down at her hands.

"Where's Amalie?" Arman demanded, also choosing to ignore his son's 'gift' as it lay moaning and bleeding all over his favourite rug.

Vander arched an eyebrow at his father. Obviously, Kaleb hadn't told him the specifics about the magical signature that they now knew was Zen. He'd probably sold their father the 'familiar soul' propaganda that he'd tried on Vander.

"He can't Void jump again, Dad!" Bickslow argued. He'd activated his magic to see his brother as soon as he'd recovered from the shock of the Shadowquip mage's sudden appearance and it was grim, to say the least. "His soul is torn all over the place and dark as hell!"

"Chill, big bro," Vander drawled with a smirk. He was exhausted, emotionally and magically, and knew he needed to stay out of the Voids for a little while. His sister, Xally, was a Water mage and a talented artist, and had once drawn him as a chibi character walking chibi void demons, complete with leashes and tiny horns. It had been hysterical, and so far away from the horrors that really filled the Voids. It was still stuck to the wall in the Shadowquip mage's bedroom at the the family home. The demons, in reality, were most definitely not like Xally had imagined them and could rip him apart if he was too weak to control and fight them. "I'm not an idiot - I know my limits. We're meeting them at the sky port in Sin."

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The catacombs below the Pergrande Stadium had been a pain in the arse to find, but Zen and Amalie had finally made it to what she deemed as a safe distance away from the capital. It had been slow going; the affects of the drugs the big Boscan had been given seemed to be exacerbated by his higher magic levels. It had effectively turned the man into a big, drunken puppy, and forced her to make a call from the comms lacrima she'd stolen from a guard earlier.

"Long time, trash panda," the maroon haired man greeted her with a fanged grin when he finally answered on her second attempt to call him. After the first call had been answered by a complete random, the pinkette had had to wrack her brain to remember his actual birth name.

"Not long enough, danger noodle," Amalie replied with her own grin. She adored the rough man and their ongoing game of insults. "How long does it take for subservience drugs to wear off?"

He leered at her suggestively. "Why? Who'd you roofie?"

She just rolled her eyes, not even bothering to respond as she turned the comm towards Zen so Erik could get a good look at what she was dealing with. "We're in the Pergrande catacombs and need to get to the Sin summit."

"Really didn't need to see his dick, Queenie," the Poison Slayer grumbled. "He'll be fine. Get rid of his other leashes and call me if he starts foaming at the mouth."

With that said, he dropped the link without further explanation or so much as a 'bye'.

Amalie sighed and turned back to the bigger mage. He was swaying on his feet and looking around the cavern in unadulterated fascination. "Zen, you need to sit down before you fall over. We'll rest for a bit here while I get rid of the rest of those nasty draining cuffs."

He sat, but his hands closed over her hips, dragging her with him so she was straddling his lap. She was again acutely aware of his nakedness - getting him covered had been much less of a priority than getting them the hell out of the Stadium - and the hard length was now nestled between them. She'd tried to get him to tie her shadow cape around his waist earlier, but he'd tossed it aside when she hadn't been paying him enough attention.

He growled at her when she tried to put some distance between them and she relented with a sigh, both hands moving to the biggest manacle around his neck. His lips started to trail a hot path down her throat and she struggled to concentrate. "Zen, stop."

He ignored her, pulled her tighter against him, and she was momentarily lost to the delicious friction of him grinding against her, before swearing and fighting to control herself. She was here to do a job, and he was drugged to the eyeballs. She focused back on the cuff but her magical control was lost the moment his teeth scraped her collarbone. The manacle on his neck burst violently into dust, the magical surge that hit the big Boscan making him hiss against the Change mage's skin as she muttered, "You deserved that."


	6. Concede

Thanks so much for the reviews - you all rock!

Sorry for the delay in posting this - getting smashed at work at the moment and have had a hard time getting a moment for myself. Hopefully will have my last few prompts done soon... Maybe...

This chapter is VanLu centric fluff... I really wanted to try and write smut, but I'm super shit at it... So it might happen, it might not... The answer is in the bottom of a bottle of red on Friday night!

Pradesh Week has been awesome - have loved reading everyone's stories!

Shout out again to Desna, who created these wonderful OC's (seriously, why can't men be like Zen and Cris IRL?!) and writes such epic fics x

 **Chapter 4. Concede.**

Arman had commandeered an air ship straight away - it was one of the perks of being a well known ambassador - and waved from the dock as it left with most of his children aboard just a few hours before sunset. Kaleb had been uncharacteristically tight lipped on the details of the extraction, and generally that meant it was either something the ambassador didn't want to know about, or something he shouldn't be privy to due to his position. Either way, he trusted his son's judgement without question.

He had already alerted his King of the Pergrandian filth that his youngest son and pseudo daughter had 'gifted' him, and Princess Kurino had collected him along with a small envoy of Steel Councilmen. Altiene had asked no questions about the appearance of the crippled man - he'd been conspiring for years to take down the man who'd slaughtered an entire embassy of his people. Arman suspected that, despite the Pradesh patriarch and the Queen of Caros being the ones to initial the job, his King had definitely had a hand in it.

The passengers aboard the Bellona had two days until it arrived in Sin, so Lucy decided she'd practice gate jumping, something Capricorn had taught her just before she'd left on the job with Amalie, to distract herself from the enigma that was Vander. She knew what the Boscan culture was like; that men and women didn't have the hang ups that Fiorian's did about sex, that they embraced outward affection and women weren't judged based on their sexual partners. She wanted to explore that, hell, she wanted to embrace it! She'd been with several men besides her ex in Magnolia, but they didn't make her heart flutter or her core heat up like the Shadowquip mage did whenever he gave her one of his lopsided smirks, but his carefree kisses were causing havoc with her brain especially when he didn't follow it up by trying to get into her panties. Bickslow had given her joking warnings about his younger brother being a man whore before they'd gotten to Bosco, and she tried valiantly to cling to those cautions and not get swept away. She tried to convince herself that she just wanted to sleep with him but was failing miserably - she wasn't stupid and knew that her brain would turn it into some sort of romantic fantasy and she'd end up with a broken heart, so she resolved to avoid being alone with the Shadowquip or allowing him to catch her off guard with anymore of those damned kisses.

Sitting down in the hull of the ship, in a quiet nook among what she suspected was weaponry in nondescript boxes, Lucy forced herself to concentrate. Gate jumping was supposed to get easier, to become more natural, but at the moment it took focus. Her lands weren't great, she ended up on her backside more often than not and had the bruises to show for it. She'd explored the boat thoroughly - the sprinter ship wasn't as luxurious as the air ship that had taken them to Bosco but much quicker - and focused on the lounge located in the stern as she tugged on her magic like her goat spirit had taught her. The feeling of the ground dropping out from her was unnerving and made her stomach lurch, but a second later she felt herself land on something soft and opened her eyes to find the very man she'd been set on avoiding staring back at her with mild shock... And that goddamned smirk.

"Well, shit," the blonde cursed, quickly pulling on her magic again to get back to where she'd started. Her landing wasn't pretty but Lucy managed to stay upright. Her moment of celebration was crashed by Vander materialising beside her.

"Playing hard to get, estralla?" he asked, lips brushing her ear before neatly avoiding her shocked reflex kick. "I do like the chase..."

"You wish, pequeña sombra," she snapped, smug that she'd remembered words from a language she'd not spoken in years and resolute to glitterbomb his shadowy ass later, as she tugged at the magic again to gate jump to the deck. A small part of her was pissed that he found her aversion to his disingenuous advances a game.

The blonde failed to nail the next landing, falling to her backside again, but managed to startle Bickslow enough with her unexpected arrival that he let out a girlish squeal.

"Hey, Bicks."

"Where the fuck did you come from, Cosplayer?" the Seith mage finally asked with a grin, guild marked tongue lolling out. The blonde was glad he was wearing his helmet less, she rather liked being able to actually see his face when they talked.

"Magic," Lucy replied with a bright smile. She glanced around the deck, noticing the long shadows appearing as the sun went down. It was only a matter of time until the Shadowquip mage reappeared.

They played cat and mouse like that for hours, only stopping for a late dinner with Vander sitting next to the woman and 'accidentally' touching her throughout it. It was innocent to an observer, a bump of the knee here and brush of arms there, but his touch burned through the Celestial mage, making her even more hyper aware of his proximity than she already was. She refused to concede defeat, though, and gate jumped as soon as she'd finished despite her magic starting to run low and her landings becoming even less predictable.

It had been a saving grace, really, that the ship was surrounded by a magical shield to prevent its occupants falling overboard and those with ill intentions getting aboard once it was airborne.

Lucy was holding her poor head in her hands - the back of it had hit the barrier when she'd stumbled - when she sensed someone sit beside her. She warily opened one eye to find the Lunar Slayer cross legged beside her.

"He's not all bad, Goldy," the man told her, his rich baritone voice soothing her. Lucy suspected there was magic involved to make her relax like that, but couldn't find it in herself to care. She'd been on edge trying to put distance between herself and the Shadowquip, and it was honestly exhausting.

"I know," she muttered, rolling backwards to sprawl out on her back. The view of the stars was incredible from the air ship, unhindered by city lights and clouds. Maybe she could just sleep up here under her beloved constellations instead of the crowded bunk room.

Cristoff chuckled as he looked over the blonde woman, at the soft smile curving her full lips, her slightly calloused hands and sinfully long bare legs. The fact his younger brother hadn't shared pleasure with her yet meant he saw her as just a friend, or he had a deeper interest. The latter was the only thing keeping the Slayer from moving in on her. He'd give his brother until the end of this trip to decide.

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Lucy was woken by strong arms sliding underneath her, pulling her against a firm chest. She groggily looked up, starting when her eyes focused on the defined jaw of the very man she'd been trying to avoid.

"It's not the best idea to sleep up here, estralla," he told her softly, holding her tighter before she had the idea to start struggling. He was doing this to protect the ship and his family, he reasoned. It wasn't because her proximity soothed something he didn't even know was agitated inside of him. "The job was hush hush so we're not supposed to really be on this ship."

That seemed to put a stop to her objections before they formed, or so he'd thought. He'd been ready to set her down, let her find her own way to the bunk room, when he felt her nose press against his collarbone followed by a gentle scrape of the evil woman's teeth. He knew he deserved it, he'd been messing around with her all day even though it was obvious she was trying to avoid him.

"Don't start something you won't finish," Vander warned her, keeping his voice low. Maybe fucking her would get it out of his system, even if he copped hell for it later from his brothers and sisters who clearly adored her. The blonde shivered slightly in his arms at the words, her nose moving up the side of his neck to gently nip at his ear, making the man curse and abruptly drop her feet to the ground so he could grasp her chin and claim her mouth.

This kiss was different to the previous ones - those had been light hearted and teasing, but now Vander was determined to make her beg for more. He wanted her, had wanted her ever since she'd pranced into his life in her tiny ripped denim shorts with a smile like the sun. It was confusing to him, he'd never wanted anything other than pleasure before, but there was something about her that had hooked him in and he didn't even want to try and get away.

He was the one to pull back as her hands crept under his shirt and touched his sides lightly. He could see the doubt in her eyes, mistaking his retreat for rejection. Vander kissed her again soundly before pressed his forehead to hers.

"When we get back to Bosco... I promise to make you scream. I do want you, Lucy, but now, tonight, we need to sleep."

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	7. Particular

Life (and not the fun sort. I'm talking studying, full time work and independent consulting) got in the way of writing and posting this - so big shout out to everyone following for their patience :)

Hope you all enjoy this next update for Desna's Pradesh week xx

 **Chapter 5. Particular.**

It had taken Zen several hours to 'sober' up from the effect his magic had had on the drugs that were forced into him, even after he'd woken up from what he suspected was a sleep spell. It was almost dark when Amalie had trusted him enough to sneak out from the catacombs to steal clothing for them both, and they'd gotten close to the border before finally stopping for the had led him to his current predicament.

In all the years he'd been kept at the pits, he'd never woken up with a woman - they were always removed from his cell before he went to sleep. He looked down now at the crown of pale pink hair of the young woman, who smelled uniquely like cherry blossoms and smoke, that was using his bicep as a pillow, trying to decide if he should wake her and how. His other arm was curled around her waist, holding her with her back snug to his chest. He couldn't pick her age, she had a young face but her expressive eyes showed him that she'd seen many things. She'd handled his drugged antics maturely, turning down his advances and moving out of reach from his wandering hands with promises to consider his offers of pleasure at a more appropriate time. He suspected she thought he'd forget about it, but he most definitely wouldn't.

They definitely hadn't gone to sleep like this; he distinctly remembered sprawling out on his back and taking in the stars. Gods, how he'd missed seeing them. It had been years since he'd seen the sky at night without the obstruction of bars. He was feeling good now that he'd slept, actually slept deeply and not just lightly for fear of it making him vulnerable in a world of dangerous and conniving men, and the access to his magic made him feel more complete than he could ever remember feeling.

His predicament stirred then, stretching slightly before freezing when she felt his hand on her waist and realised their position. She cursed softly, a word that he'd heard men much bigger than her say plenty of times in pits but never a woman. He couldn't help himself from chuckling, and when she looked over her shoulder at him sheepish and red faced, it turned into a proper laugh that didn't stop even when her elbow connected sharply with his ribs and she wriggled from his grasp and stood.

"You were the one who snuggled up, fyi," she told him blandly, finally getting her blush under control. "Haven't you dry humped me enough lately?"

"You did promise to entertain the idea of letting me hump you properly," Zen reminded her with a grin, rolling to his feet with practised ease and stretching his arms over his head. He didn't miss the way the pinkette's eyes lingered on the exposed skin of his stomach before trailing up to his face, and smiled at her wolfishly.

"That doesn't mean yes," she sniped back, straightening her clothes and deliberately adjusting her bust for the big gladiator's benefit when she saw him eyeing her movements.

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A big dark haired man was waiting patiently near the airship port for the next freighter to arrive, his pink haired companion sprawled out on her stomach on the grass beside him in the sun plucking at blades of grass. A stack of freight was piled carefully near them, bound for Bosco. To a casual onlooker they could pass as merchants, but everyone on board the Bellona knew exactly who they really were and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"There they are!" Lucy exclaimed as she leaned over the air ship's railing and waved, deliberately moving so that her backside ground against Vander's groin. Payback was a bitch and she fully intended to torture him after he'd kissed her breathless that morning and left her wanting so much more, but the ship making an unexpected stop had prevented things going further. The fact they had zero privacy save for the blankets covering them was also overlooked by the blonde at the time. She was particularly embarrassed about her lapse in judgement when Cristoff teased her about it at breakfast, and accusing him of being a voyeur only made the big Slayer laugh even more.

"If you don't stop that, I'll take you here in front of everyone," the Shadowquip warned in response, as his fingers dug into her hips and he thrust gently back against her.

"Promise?" the blonde hummed, her sweet smile and wide chocolate eyes belying the less than innocent intent behind her question. Vander smirked at the little temptress and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. She giggled and turned her attention back to the port they were in the process of docking.

"Wait here." The Shadowquip left Lucy on board and disembarked, making a show of checking the freight that was being 'picked up'. His missing brother scooped the woman up carefully, although not carefully enough if her pained grimace was anything to go by. Vander noticed some guards getting closer and gave the gladiator a meaningful gaze. He wasn't sure if they were port workers or Pergrandian, but didn't want to take any chances. He gazed at Amalie, observing her paler than usual face and her even shallow breaths. She was injured and they needed to get the hell out of here.

"Everything looks good. Here are your papers, Sir," he told Zen, improvising and handing the bigger man some scraps of blank paper, hoping he'd play along. "You and your wife can get settled on the ship and we'll load your freight."

The taller man nodded at him, moving past Vander to walk up the gangplank as the crew collected their luggage. They were greeted on the deck by a brown eyed blonde wearing a silk headscarf and yellow sundress. "Good morning and welcome to the Bellona. Can I get you anything?"

Celestial magic rolled off the woman, much stronger than her deceptively innocent looks indicated, and it made the gladiator cautious. "My wife needs medical attention. Can you direct me to your infirmary?"

"Of course, sir. Follow me," the young woman chirped, turning on her heel and leading them down the stairs and through the ship's galley. She pushed open the door to the infirmary and moved so Zen could enter.

He sat down on the starch white sheets of the bed with his back against the bed head, and gently sat the pinkette down between his legs she she could lean sideways against his chest so there was no pressure on her wounds. His arms rested around her waist as they sat in comfortable silence.

The ships engines started up and a tall man entered the room.

"I'm Cristoff Pradesh," he introduced himself. He gave off a calm aura that almost soothed Zen's discomfort and his magical signature was strong, but the gladiator could sense his true strength was carefully hidden. Cris smiled easily at the pair on the bed as he approached. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, brother."

Zen just nodded, unsure what else to do. He felt like he had been blindly following Amalie to meet the airship with the promise of returning him to his family, and now he was here, faced with them, and he felt more unsure of this situation than if he were faced bare handed with a dozen wyvern. He subconsciously held the pinkette a little closer, seeking comfort in her proximity

"Are you hurt? I can smell tainted blood."

"It's Amalie's blood," Zen told him, waving off his looks of concern. He had a few scratches here and there, but nothing even remotely life threatening. "Her back will need stitches. Maybe her scalp, too. We were inconvenienced by some berserkers and Pergrandian soldiers at the border."

There had been a 'welcoming party' of four Pergrandian created berserkers and some soldiers at the border to Sin. The berserkers, oversized men that Zen had explained later were the result of scientific experiments by the King, were unlike anything the pinkette had ever faced before, and her inexperience had resulted in a serious misjudgement of the creatures' speed and agility. She'd only managed to kill one and maim a second, whilst Zen had dispatched the other two and the one she'd injured in the same time.

"You say that like they were nothing," Amalie grit out as the blonde rejoined them. "Zen, this is Lucy. She's my guildmate at Fairy Tail."

The Celestial mage smiled brightly at the gladiator as she gently peeled the bottom of the pinkette's shirt up to reveal the bandages and tried to move her arm. Amalie hissed at the movement, feeling the wound on her back split open again and warm blood trickle out from the soiled bandages and down her spine. "Cut my shirt off. I can't lift my arm."

Zen watched as his brother moved around the bed while Lucy cut the shirt off so he could start removing the dressings, not letting go of Amalie. "You're strong. What is your magic?"

"I'm a Lunar Dragon Slayer," Cristoff responded easily, wincing when he could finally see all the damage. Three claw like ragged wounds ran from one of her shoulders down to her waist on the opposite side and oozed pus. There was definitely poison involved but it smelled synthetic and alien. The Poison Slayer had been correct.

"Like I'd make it up," the man in question drawled, appearing in the doorway. He chuckled at the silent question in the form of a raised eyebrow from Amalie. "You're naked friend answered your lacrima and told me your body had become a meth lab, so here I am."

"Bon appetit," the pinkette told him weakly, a small grin curling the edges of her lips. She knew the Poison Slayer had zero interest in her sexually, so added, "Told you you'd eat me out someday."

"Fucking hell, queenie. I wouldn't touch your snatch with a ten foot pole," Cobra snarled playfully, poking her wound and avoiding the woman when she hissed at the action and growled at him. He made a show of sucking the blood from his finger before giving her a fang filled grin. "Angel boy wasn't lying when he said that shit was potent. How the fuck are you still functioning?"


	8. Huge

Thanks to everyone who left reviews on the last chapter - you're all wonderful xx

Sorry for the delay - writers block and working like 60 hour weeks! Hope you enjoy this update :)

 **Chapter 6. Huge.**

It had taken Cristoff several painstaking hours to clear up all the damage from the berserker attack, carefully knitting layers of muscle back together and clearing up any internal damage caused by the poison before focusing on her skin, healing it so there was barely a scar left. He was annoyed about the blemish, but it was minimal and couldn't be helped. She was covered in scars anyway, so he doubted she'd really mind.

The pinkette had fallen asleep after Cobra's antidote had taken full affect, though it took him a couple of goes to get it right due to the synthetic nature of it. The Poison Slayer hadn't encountered anything like it before. She hadn't complained once, though, and sat through the cold sweats and nosebleed reactions to the incorrect formulas silently - her white knuckled grip on Zen's hand and rapid shallow breaths the most obvious indicators of her discomfort while Cobra muttered expletive laden apologies.

The lengthy work gave the healer plenty of time to chat with his long lost brother, and he told Zen about their father, Kaleb, Bicklsow, Emzadi, Xally and Vander. He filled him in on how Bosco had changed for the better following the war, and about his Guild, White Sea. His siblings had visited for brief periods, never more than one at a time, and his older brother seemed to be coping well with the intrusions.

The Lunar Slayer looked over the pair, both now asleep, smiling at the way Amalie snuggled against his brother's bare chest, her head tucked under his chin and a hand tangled in his hair while the big man had both arms wrapped around her.

The gladiator had told him a little of what his life had been like in the pits, and the hideous laboratories the Pergrandian king had been hiding from the rest of Earthland. It was where the poison had been developed, so potent that Cobra had actually gotten a little high from it, and where Zen had spent several years while they tested and tried to replicate his unique magic. Cristoff couldn't imagine how hard life must have been on a daily basis, constantly fighting for survival. It was why he'd gently used his magic to help the other mage fall into a undisturbed slumber and he intended to monitor him until he woke up on his own accord.

"How are they?" a voice asked softly. "Can I get you anything?"

Cristoff turned in his seat to smile at the blonde Celestial mage. Her sweet nature would perfectly balance out his younger brother's darkness, if he were to actually calm his flirtatious ways long enough to see for himself just how perfect she was for him.

"I'm fine, thank you Lucy," the Lunar Slayer replied. "But would you mind sitting with them while I stretch my legs?"

She nodded and moved into the room, curling herself up in the chair Cristoff had vacated and opening the book she'd been carrying. The big Slayer chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her golden crown. He was unashamedly affectionate, especially when it came to women, and the blonde was no exception. It was a shame, truly, that his dragon didn't react to her. "I won't be long."

"Go. It's fine," the Celestial mage responded, eyes not leaving the page she was reading as she waved him off blindly. "You need a shower. You stink."

He barked a laugh at that and left.

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It was a huge thing for him to even contemplate, but he knew he was lost to those doe eyes the instant they met his and he'd do anything to be blinded by her brilliant smile. Still, he wanted to resist. He wanted to keep his freedom; he didn't want to be tied down to someone, especially not with his _occupation_ and precarious position in the Steel Council. Gods, he could die tomorrow and what would that do to her?!

Vander scrubbed his hands through his hair in frustration. This situation was so far out of his comfort zone - he was usually a casual fling sort of person and noone had ever held his attentions long enough to contemplate otherwise.

It wasn't that she was crowding him. It was actually quite the opposite - _h_ _e_ was the one seeking out her company. Sure, it had started as a delicious game of cat and mouse but, after she managed to preempt his moves and escape him again and again, it had become much more. She intrigued him, and challenged him, and he was drawn in like a moth to a flame. It was all a damned mind fuck, really.

Maybe he just needed to finally have sex with her, fuck her out of his system.

He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling of the airship. He was sure that was it, that he'd lose interest when he no longer had to chase her.

With that decision made, the Shadowquip mage stood, determined to find the object of his confusion.

The blonde was easy to find when she wasn't trying to avoid him, and she jumped when Vander's fingers slid across her collarbone. She looked up at him, a startled squeak escaping her own lips when his descended on hers without preamble, capturing them in a hungry kiss. It did nothing to sate his want for her, only stoked the fire of his need.

"Don't mean to interrupt your foreplay," a hoarse voice whispered, breaking through the haze of their lust. "But I could use some water."

Lucy pulled away, panting, face a delicious shade of crimson. They both looked over at the Change mage, still worryingly pale and curled up with the missing Pradesh on the infirmary bed, but obviously well enough to cock block the shit out of her friends as evidenced by her knowing smirk.

"Get your own fucking water," Vander snarled, snatching Lucy up and stepping into the shadows. To hell with waiting. If she consented, he'd have her now, on their way back to Bosco. He hurried through the shadows, to the room he knew had a lock on the door. Lucy made no objection to this form of travel, if her teeth scraping against his jaw was anything to go by. He nearly lost control of his magic, faltered when her lips closed over his earlobe. Her devious tongue sent blood pumping straight down to his crotch. Never before had a woman had this affect on him and he hissed in warning only for her to giggle in response.

It felt like a lifetime before they'd finally made it to the room, progress slowed by the blonde's wicked mouth and his waning self control. He tossed her onto the bed, delighted by the way her eyes widened when he commanded his shadow made clothes to dissipate, leaving him completely bare before her.

"Wow," Lucy whispered, her eyes drinking him in. She rolled over onto her knees, looking up at him through her bangs and biting her bottom lip shyly. With a small blush, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her lacy bra and full bust to him. She met his crimson eyes with a hint of a challenge. "Well? Are you just going to watch?"

Vander didn't need a second invitation and pounced.


	9. Doxy

Ok, so I totally bailed on the smut in the previous chapter... Because I wrote it and I hated it so it got omitted! Ooops again for the long wait xxx I feel like this is going to be a bit longer than the prompts, so stay tuned :)

 **Chapter 7. Doxy.**

The Pradesh patriarch couldn't help the tears of joy that escaped his eyes as he watched a dark haired man disembark carrying his god-daughter, the princess of Caros. He was a stranger but everything about his jaw line and mahogany hair was achingly familiar; Arman couldn't explain it, but he just knew in his heart that it was his long lost son. He was slightly taller than his brothers, both biological and adopted, and definitely broader, and Arman had to force himself not to approach them and throw his arms around him.

Arman was an incredibly affectionate man but since Kaleb had finally broken and told him everything, leaving nothing that he'd learned through Vander and Kaleb out, he knew he'd have to rein in his familial urges until the man was ready for uninitiated contact.

"Arman, I believe you already know Zen?" Amalie introduced as she was gently set to her feet. She trembled with the strain of standing by herself before she was swept up into the hug Arman dared not to lavish on his missing son just yet.

"Hey!" the girl yelped in protest, though didn't struggle. "Still healing here, old man!"

He chuckled and set her down, not releasing her completely until the Poison Slayer had an arm securely around her waist. He'd have hugged the maroon haired man too, but knew of his extreme distaste for being touched.

"Zen," Arman breathed, finally turning his full attention back to the taller man. Gods, he wanted to reach out and touch him, but the things he'd been victim to were still fresh in the ambassador's mind so he kept his distance. "I didn't dare believe it was true."

"Dad," the gladiator greeted him with a tight smile. Arman could sense his inner conflict as Zen hesitated briefly before finally pulling the older man into a brief, uneasy hug. "I missed you."

They released each other and Zen took a step back, putting a small bit of distance between them. It broke Arman's heart but he knew his son would heal. The Pradesh's were nothing if not resilient.

"Can we take this awkward reunion back to the house?" Amalie asked lightly, trying to ease the tension. "I'd kill for some ramen."

"Seriously?" Cristoff asked, rolling his eyes. He gently bumped her with his shoulder as he passed, the small action causing her knees to buckle underneath her and she'd have pitched forward if not for Cobra's grip on her. "You want that poison when Mr Elan will cook you something that actually has a nutritional value?"

"Ramen is life," the princess shot back with a smile.

.:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:..:*:.

Zen woke up slowly, feeling rested and safe despite only having a few hours of sleep. It was an alien sensation, one he'd barely believed possible until he'd woken yesterday morning in a similar position. He was so used to constantly being cautious and on edge, even when he'd been in the apparent safety of his cage at the colosseum, that waking peacefully was almost disconcerting.

Sluggishly, he noted he was in a soft clean bed and curled up with a smaller body in his arms as the past couple of days finally registered in his sleep addled brain.

Her scent was unmistakable, even under layers of antiseptic and masculine shampoo and laundry detergent - Amalie was still there with him.

He almost started when he felt gentle fingers lightly trace his jaw before running down his throat and across his collarbone, followed by slightly chapped but warm lips pressing firmly to his chest right over his heart. He tightened his grip on her slightly, suddenly afraid that if he let go even a little that it would all just disappear and he'd wake up back in his cell at Sky's Reach. It wouldn't be the first time Pergrande had tried hallucinogens on him in an effort to break the Dark Eagle.

"Is it real?" he asked softly.

There was a pause and her fingers moving to his face again to caress his cheek.

"Yes," she whispered back. "You're home and you're free."

Zen opened his eyes, looking down to meet her vibrant green gaze from where her chin rested on his chest. She still looked exhausted, the whites of her eyes bloodshot and her face worryingly pale.

"I'll look better in a few days," she said with a small smile, like she knew where his thoughts had taken him as her fingers smoothed the creases worrying his brow. "How are you?"

"Still in disbelief," he confessed, closing his eyes again and leaning into her touch. He wanted to talk to his father and get to know his family, but instead he'd felt overwhelmed by the house and everyone in it, so he'd absconded with the Change mage to the sanctuary of her room for a nap. He found inexplicable comfort in her presence and could admit freely to himself that he was using her as a buffer to ease himself into his new found freedom and life, but he couldn't get a read on what she wanted from him. "Am?"

"Mmm?" she hummed in response, her lips pressing again to the same spot on his chest.

"Why did you do it?"

"Killing most of the royal guard and paralysing that piece of shit King, busting you out of Sky's Reach or invading Pergrande?" she asked. "I have plenty more but I'm guessing your query pertains to the first two items. Arman is a very dear friend to my mother. He was devastated by yours and Ganier's deaths and since I abdicated, I've been helping him chase leads to hunt down those responsible. Getting to stab that fucker was one of the best moments of my life."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Zen, look at me," she ordered softly. He opened his eyes slowly and met her fierce gaze. "I don't know what you're looking for, but I promise there's nothing sinister going on here. There's no ulterior motive or play to break you. We all just want you to be happy and to integrate back into society, however and whenever you see fit. If that means snuggling in bed for naps so you can escape from everyone, then that's fine. Your family... They know you need time, and they'll help you even if you don't ask for it."

"And you?" he prodded. He wanted to ask her, selfishly, if she'd stay but wouldn't. He couldn't - he knew she had a life outside of Bosco, she'd heal and then she'd leave and go back to the life she'd been leading before his father had roped her in to this.

Her eyes searched his, clouded by something she wouldn't tell him, and she shifted as much as his hold on her would allow so she could press a gentle, lingering kiss to the underside of his chin. "I'll stay as long as you need me to, in whatever capacity you decide. But my country is invading Pergrande as we speak. I told mother about the berserkers and poison, but I might need to go and help."

"I'm coming with you if you go," he told her. He didn't like secrets and was determined to find out what else she was hiding. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Do you... Feel anything when we're in physical contact?" she finally asked carefully after a long pause, pink tinging her cheeks. "My magic... It's a bloodline magic and it has traits that are similar to Dragon Slayers. It... It reacts to you."

Zen didn't say anything, his hand moved from her waist to tangle into the pale pink hair at the nape of her neck so he could pull her up his body. He studied her face, trying to find some deception in her words and failing before pulling her face down to his so he could finally taste her lips. He gave her the opportunity to reject him, to pull away and gently rebuff him as she had when he was magic drunk, but her fingers slid into his hair as her tongue gently parted his lips so she could deepen the kiss.

He was in heaven as he kissed her back feverishly, his thoughts turning from adoration for the woman to lust as he imagined how good her bare skin would be pressed against his, until the clearing of a throat broke the moment and she pulled away panting. The couple turned to see the door open and the Lunar and Poison Dragon Slayers watching them.

Amalie's face turned a vivid crimson before she hid her face against the side of Zen's neck. The gladiator, however, was unaffected. His whole life had been a display, an attraction to others especially when things were intimate, the only thing different to that right now was the possessiveness he felt for the pinkette. Zen let out an audible snarl that only made the maroon haired man laugh while Cristoff smirked.

"We'll come back later for that check up, Queenie. From the porno running in your soul right now, you're gonna need more than a few minutes to calm that shit down..."


End file.
